Bang! And The Dirt Is Gone
by HiddenDepths-x
Summary: Set around about 2008. Ron and his four year old daughter Rose have an interesting 'father daughter talk' centring around an extremely irritating muggle television advert which has some amusing consequences...


**A/N: I have absolutely no idea where the idea for this came from, so you'll just have to put up with my randomness I'm afraid! A little distraction from 'If I Never Knew You' for me, but don't worry if you're following that, as I'm working on getting chapter 7 up soon. Those of you in the good old USA may not have heard of these adverts, as I think they're different over there – I know the name of the product is. If you haven't, I seriously suggest you go on YouTube and have a look at them, as they are just hilarious. Anyway, that's more than enough rambling for one day.

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**Bang! And The Dirt Is Gone…**

"Daddy?"

Rose Weasley twisted around from her seat in Ron's lap to look her father in the eye, her little face as sombre as only his four year old daughter could manage. Ron liked to call it her 'mummy face' – something Hermione didn't really appreciate.

"Yes, Rosie?" said Ron, trying to be equally serious but giving himself away when the laughter lines creased around his eyes.

"Daddy," Rose continued, oblivious to her father's amusement, "why is the man shouting?"

"What?" Ron said, mystified, trying to figure out the 'man' was that his daughter was referring to.

"Him," she said impatiently, stabbing her stubby little finger forwards to indicate what she clearly thought was very obvious, "the man on the telly!"

"Oh, right," said Ron sheepishly, having not been paying much attention to the box in front of him. He had been concentrating on preserving the rare and precious moment he was sharing with his daughter, as thanks both to his job and Hugo – who had hit the terrible twos with a vengeance – he didn't get to spend nearly as much time with her as he would have liked. And she was getting so big… "I wasn't really watching, sweetie."

"Oh," Rose said, her little face falling. She was, fortunately or unfortunately, still at that age where her parents were superheroes who possessed all the wisdom of the world, and Ron hated to shatter that illusion.

"But," he said suddenly, eyes twinkling, "I can always do… this!" With an over exaggerated flourish – Hermione would have shaken her head disapprovingly – he pointed his wand at the charmed muggle television and made rapid anti-clockwise circles in the air, causing the live picture to rewind itself at speed. Ron looked down at his daughter, beaming. "Well?" he said, triumphantly.

"Well done, daddy," Rose said seriously, but she was not yet old enough to be able to fool him properly.

"Mummy already showed you that, didn't she?" he said, slightly crestfallen at his failed attempt to impress his daughter.

"Yes," she replied solemnly, before looking around in a conspiratorial way. After checking that her mother was indeed upstairs with Hugo, she added in a whisper "But I think your way was much better, dad." Slightly mollified and knowing that he wouldn't be able to resist letting Hermione know what Rose had let slip, Ron settled back in the cosy armchair.

"Thanks, Rosie," he said with the smile that he reserved only for her. "Now, let's see if we can't find out what you wanted to know – just say…" He paused, pretending to consider carefully. "Pop?" Rose giggled loudly, a grin spreading across her features that always reminded Ron of Ginny when the two of them had been the littlest ones together.

"No, silly daddy!" she said, shaking her head furiously from side to side, "I say STOP."

"What, now?" Ron said, freezing the picture with a jab of his wand on what was clearly a passionate kiss between two teenage cast members of whatever muggle soap had been on.

"Yuck," declared Rose loudly, "no, not now! That's disgusting." Ron smiled at the slight lisp in his daughter's voice caused by the front teeth that he knew protruded just a millimetre further forward than the rest. He was glad at least that he didn't have to worry about Rose getting interested in anything like _that_ for a while.

"Yes, absolutely horrible, isn't it?" he said cheerfully, ruffling his daughter's wild hair. He resumed the playback with a lazy swish of his wand, getting himself comfortable again. "Now, you just let me know when-"

"There!" shouted Rose suddenly, bouncing up and down on his knee to get his attention and pointing again at the screen. Heart thumping a little harder than before – surely he wasn't getting _old_ – Ron froze the screen again on the image of a man standing facing the camera with a yellow bottle in his hands.

"Er," he said, bemusedly, "are you sure this is it, Rose?"

"Yes, daddy," she replied confidently, "that's it." She smoothed down her denim dungarees and took a deep breath, clearly trying to calm herself down – she never did like to act too much like a little girl, which Ron found both endearing and slightly heart-breaking at the same time.

"All right then," he said, and with a sudden spark from his wand the man suddenly became animated again.

"HI I'M BARRY SCOTT!" came the voice from the speakers, so loud that Ron actually jumped a little, "AND I'M HERE TO INTRODUCE NEW CILLIT BANG UNIVERSAL STAIN AND DRAIN!" Ron watched in disbelief as the man proceeded to make a complete idiot of himself, continuing to yell straight at the camera as if the people sitting in their living rooms might not quite have the sound loud enough to appreciate the fine sound of his voice. Eventually he sunk his face into his hands. It was only about a minute long, but it was an excruciating minute, and he wondered how in Merlin's name he hadn't heard it the first time it had played. "BANG! AND THE DIRT IS GONE…" Silence. Merciful silence.

"Is it over?" he asked weakly from behind his hands, peering through his fingers at his very unimpressed daughter.

"Yes, and you can put your hands down," she admonished, waving her own finger at him in a frighteningly accurate impression of her mother that almost caused Ron to burst out laughing. Almost.

"Sorry, Rosie," he said meekly, knowing that he had hurt her feelings a little by making fun of her.

"That's all right, daddy," she said graciously, with the forgiveness that only a child can bestow, "but you didn't answer my question. Why was he shouting?"

"Oh," said Ron, thinking hard to remember all the things Hermione had taught him about muggle advertising campaigns since she'd bought him the tv for his 20th birthday and he'd tried to lift a chocolate bar out of the screen – but why would they offer it to him if he couldn't take it, he'd said quite reasonably – and form an answer that would keep his daughter happy. "Well, it's so people will remember the advert." Rose crinkled up her nose in confusion.

"But why would they want you to remember that a man was shouting at you through the tv?"

"It's not the shouting they want you to remember though," Ron said, "it's what they're selling." Rose still looked confused, so he decided to try to elaborate without making things too complicated. "Right – can you remember what the last line of the advert was?"

"Em…" Rose tailed off, her face furrowed in concentration. After a few seconds it brightened suddenly, and she said delightedly, and very fast, "Bang and the dirt is gone!"

"Well done," said Ron, patting her heavily on the shoulder and causing her to giggle again. "Now, you see what they've done?"

"What?" asked Rose in wonder, staring up at him with wide blue eyes.

"They've made you remember what their product does!" he said proudly, "It removes stains that you don't want there. And that's why the advert works. Even though the man is shouting and behaving very strangely, you'll remember it because it sticks out and you won't forget that they were selling…"

"Cillit Bang!" Rose chirped, smile going from ear to ear. "Thanks dad!" She slid off his knee with a thump and headed at a run towards the stairs.

"Hey," said Ron in confusion, "where are you going?"

"To practise something," his daughter replied innocently, though he could have sworn that the smile she gave before turning back around was a lot more Fred-and-George than it was Ginny. He listened intently to her retreating footsteps, but all he could hear was a slight muttering, which he thought sounded vaguely like "Bang and the dirt is gone, bang and the dirt is gone…"

Still, he thought to himself as he stretched his arms above his head, they had had a good little father-daughter chat. He had taught her the evils of advertising and she had taught him that... Well, for one thing, that his wandwork looked more impressive than Hermione's! He grinned widely, before settling back to make the most of the pathetic programming offered to him on a Sunday afternoon.

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Hermione had had a _very_ long Sunday, and she had every reason to be completely shattered. At least, this was what she told herself as she picked herself up out of the bedroom chair she had unwittingly fallen asleep in. The last thing she remembered was coming in to change her clothes after Hugo had chucked yet another bottle of juice at her – she had learned the hard way not to magically clean items in front of her son, as he proved worryingly adept at liberating it from even the highest place she set it to rest while her back was turned. She must have just sat down, not noticing quite how tired she really was, and fallen asleep. Not that it mattered she thought as she brushed herself down briskly: Ron had been with Rose and she had left Hugo in his room, where he would no doubt be beating the walls with iron fists in his attempts to escape. Though now that she thought about it, she couldn't actually hear anything of the sort. The house was completely silent. Too silent. 

Suddenly Hermione was alert. Springing forwards and grabbing her wand, she threw open the door of her room, half of her expecting to be faced by a dozen escaped Death Eaters with their wands pointed at her throat. But there was no-one. The silence was eerie, seeming to creep up her spine and wrap itself around her legs, trying to stop her from moving. Slowly, she shuffled forwards until she reached the top of the stairs, edging down them silently and taking great care not to slip. As she reached the half-landing, she noticed that Hugo's bedroom door was ajar, and she froze, petrified. If something had happened while she slept upstairs, leaving her family unprotected, she would never forgive herself.

Creeping towards the door, Hermione was sure that she could hear voices coming from behind it. Or rather, just one voice. Her heart soared as she recognised the her daughter's tones, and she was about to run into the room when she registered what was being said.

"Bang! And the dirt is gone… Bang! And the dirt is gone… Bang! And the dirt is gone…" Over and over, Rose was repeating the words. Hermione realised with a jolt that her tiny, defenceless daughter had clearly been confunded in some way. There was no way she was going to just stand there while Rose was the under the influence of some dark wizard! Bracing herself for what she might see, she edged her head around the door, ready to withdraw it at the first sign of a trap.

What was behind the door though, instead of making her pull back, froze her to the spot in bewilderment. The light was switched off, and someone had drawn the curtain halfway across the window making it difficult to see. From what she could make out, Hugo was sitting cross-legged on the floor with a dummy in his mouth that Hermione never used, and Rose was standing over him, waving her arms and chanting. Every time she said the word 'Bang!' she directed her arms in a pushing motion towards her brother on the floor, who looked for all the world as if he had just been hit by a slight breeze.

"Bang! And the dirt is gone… Bang! And the dirt is gone…" Rose continued her mantra, never seeming to stop to take a breath, and Hermione squinted through the gloom to try to get a clearer picture of what was happening.

A little patch of light illuminated a small part of Hugo's face, but it looked… _different_ to Hermione. Almost as if something was missing… Suddenly, she realised. It was his freckles.

"Bang! And the dirt is gone…"

Hugo's freckles were systematically, and unquestionably, disappearing. One for every time his sister repeated that phrase, Hermione would bet. Her heart rose to her mouth once more, but not in fear this time. In anger.

"Rose Helen Weasley!" she screamed, banging the door open and pulling herself up to her full height, "What in the name of Merlin do you think you're doing?" Looking every inch the guilty party, Rose jumped, startled, and turned slowly to face her mother before bursting into noisy tears at the look on her face.

"Don't you turn on the waterworks," Hermione said sternly, her mouth a thin line. "Explain yourself."

"It was…" Rose fought to get out the words between huge choking sobs, "It was…"

"Spit it out," said Hermione sharply, feeling nothing but disappointment. Well, not quite nothing – that was very advanced magic for a four-year old… But this was not the time.

"It was just because of something me and dad were talking about!" Rose wailed piteously, before curling up in a little heap on the floor. Hermione's mouth thinned so much that it rivalled Minerva McGonagall's at any point during their time at Hogwarts.

"Ron!" she yelled.

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Downstairs in the living room, Ron heard her quite clearly. 

"Oh, shit."

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**A/N: I know it was very strange, and I know it was a little unlikely, but I would love it if you found the time to review if you've read this, just to let me know what you thought. Even if you thought it was awful! Constructive criticism is always welcome.**


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